The Political Marriage - Hephaestus and Aphrodite
by NikkiMouse29
Summary: The god of fire and the goddess of love were forced to marry, and they swore they would never love each other. But it seems marriage opened their eyes and made them see each other in a new light. Series of one-shots
1. Chapter 1

**The Political Marriage - Hephaestus and Aphrodite **

He watched her with envy, with resentment, with an anger he couldn't trace. Her beauty was undeniable, yet her person, who she was left something to be desired. Or did it?

More than once he'd been left asking that very question. He'd seen her cry. He'd seen her vulnerable. And he'd seen her move in ways which indicated humility, in ways which indicated . . .

. . . which indicated that she may love him.

But that was impossible. She'd made it clear that she would never love him. Their marriage was political, exclusively so. Her body, her beautiful, sensual, soft body, was off limits.

And he had known that. He had been more than happy to stay away from her. She was petty and conceded, as vain as Narcissus.

So why was it that now, in the middle of the night, he'd been unable to sleep? Why was it that her head had found its way to his chest, and his arms had wrapped themselves around her?

Her head was warm on his chest, her golden blonde hair the smell of the Elysium Fields. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to, just for this one moment, enjoy the feel of her curves and the way they seemed to mold so perfectly to him.

She awoke, startled, having had a bad dream but being unable to discern what had happened. She immediately felt the arms around her, and realized her head was no longer lying on her pillow. He didn't know she was awake. She heard him sigh, a sad sound.

Had this been Ares, he would have pushed her off him by now. Had this been Ares, he would have been unable to make a sound with that degree of emotion, of sadness, of longing. Had this been any other man she'd given herself to, he would have made her feel small, silly, for wanting this closeness. But Hephaestus was not Ares, and she had not given herself to him.

It was Hephaestus who she now found herself content with. His arms closed tighter around her, and his calloused hand brushed ever so lightly across her arm, so lightly she questioned whether the motion had been intentional. He touched her arm again, lightly, timidly, as if seeking permission. He stroked her arm, almost up to her shoulder, then stopped, and began tracing soft patterns on her arm with his fingers, brushing against her soft skin, tickling it.

His touch was careful, unsure, almost self-conscious, not wanting to wake her. He moved his hand back down her arm and then stopped, as if realizing what he'd been doing.

She did not want him to stop.

"Don't." She whispered.

He was silent. Had she meant to speak? Her hand moved to touch his chest, lightly, the way he'd touched her, but her hands were more delicate, the patterns she traced intricate and defined.

He caught her hand in his, a bold, demanding move. Her head moved, allowing her eyes to meet this.

They laid there, staring, breathing in unison. Without taking his eyes off of her, he slowly lifted her hand which was still grasped in his, and lightly pressed it against his lips.

She watched him kiss her hand, gently, his sad eyes still glued to hers. His lips slowly left her hand and they were still again. He lifted it as if to repeat his action, but she stopped him, pulling her hand away.

"Not that." She breathed, crawling closer to him. He watched her come closer, propping herself up and making her way towards him, cautiously, curiously. He moved his hand to her shoulders, then in towards the base of her neck. He brushed her hair behind her shoulder, and his hands explored the length of her neck, slowly moving to her chin. One hand tucked her hair behind her ear, while the other slowly stroked her cheek.

She let his rough hands explore her face. She closed her eyes, leaned into him, yearning for more but scared to ask for it.

His fingers found their way to her nose, down to her mouth. His hands stopped moving. Her eyes opened. She leaned forward and so did he. His hands became tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck as her hands went around his head, wrapping themselves around his neck. He kissed her, warmly, passionately, and she kissed him back. They became lost in each other's touch, in the feel of their bodies together, husband and wife. His hands explored more of her, all of her, and she kissed his neck, his shoulder, his chest.

She took away his anger and he took away her tears. The world became hot, blurry, sweaty; a mixture of soft and rough, goddess of beauty and god of fire.

**A/N - This was my first time writing these characters, so I hope you enjoyed it. I would be happy to continue this and add more one shots of this intriguing couple but I'd like to see if there is any interest for it first. **

**Thank you, and please review! I love reviews, and I'd happily take any suggestions and other feedback. **

**Happy Reading, **

**Nikki Mouse :)**


	2. Wedding Night

**A/N - Hello everyone!**

** I want to thank everyone who commented/favorited my last submission! It means a lot to know people are reading and enjoying what I put out there. **

**This chapter is supposed to take place on Hephaestus and Aphrodite's wedding night, before the events of the first chapter occured. It is written from Aphrodite's point of view. Once again, thank you, and enjoy!**

**The Political Marriage - Wedding Night**

"I'm never going to love you." I told him, as I took his arm and he escorted me away from the reception and through the halls of his house.

He stayed silent beside me, without a turn of his head or a tense of his arm to indicate a reaction.

"Did you hear me? I said I will never-"

"I heard you." He interrupted me. His tone was flat, even. I noticed his eyes turn ever so slightly in my direction, looking down to wear my white glove-covered hands held his firm, immovable arm. It was opposites at its finest. Light and dark, white and black, goddess of beauty and god of fire.

"Oh." I responded, shrinking down and returning my gaze forward. Servants opened two ornate doors, revealing a large bedroom, Spartan like in its furnishings, yet, there was something about it that I found I could appreciate. The simplicity of the room made it feel safe, homely. Like this room had been untouched by the rest of the world, as if it hadn't changed, though everything else had. That was comforting to me. As someone who was so changed, so easily manipulated by the times, stability was a wonderfully foreign concept.

Still, it was just bedroom.

Hephaestus led me into the room, and I let go of his arm as he walked to opposite side of the bed and began to slide out of his dress shoes. I walked to my bedside table, and fidgeted with the backs of my earrings, taking them out and placing them on the table. It suddenly bothered me that he had hardly looked at me since we had left the altar.

"Hephaestus." I said, clearing my throat.

He did not turn around; his only answer was, "Hm?"

"Hephaestus." I said again, louder this time.

He sighed, and turned towards me. His face was sad as he looked at me, though his eyes did not wander, he kept them intent on my face. "Yes?"

I cleared my throat again, the intensity of his gaze not affecting me as I was used to watchful eyes.

"I'm going to need a bigger table beside my bed. This one is not nearly big enough to hold all of my things."

He nodded once, looking briefly at the table, then he brought his eyes back to mine and I thought, for a moment, that he knew the size of the table was of little importance to me, and that what I had truly wanted was to make my unhappiness clear. I wanted his attention, and I cursed him silently for making me admit that to myself. The corner of his mouth slid up, but it disappeared so fast I hardly believed it had ever been there.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and folded my arms across my chest. I felt defensive, but I told myself I didn't care what he thought.

"And the closest, I'll be needing more space. I have many different dresses and they will not be smashed together to fit into an inadequate closet."

"Of course" was his only reply. I couldn't decide if he was mocking me or if he was being sincere. The even tone of his voice gave nothing away.

I crossed my arms in tighter, and then shifted again, unsure. I dropped my arms to my sides; I was fidgety and uncomfortable.

The formality of our conversation was strange, not how a husband and wife should address each other. Besides, his responses were throwing me off, and I wanted him to stop. It would make everything so much easier.

But, to my surprise, he stood and walked over to my closet, examining it. He poked his head inside, and tested the structure of the inside walls with a light knock with his fist. "I'll do this tomorrow." he stated as he stepped out of the closet.

"You?" I asked, one eyebrow raised. "Why would you do that? Don't you have… people to do that sort of stuff for you? Servants?" I asked, crossing my arms again.

He laughed. "I have no trouble constructing my own things."

"So, you enjoy making things for the gods? For the rest of us?"

It wasn't intentional, but I noticed the 'rest of us'. Like he was not included with Zeus and Hera and the rest of the gods that lived on Olympus. I immediately wanted to take it back and apologize for insinuating anything. But instead I left it, deciding I had no reason to apologize to Hephaestus.

It wasn't that he was a less important God. It was merely that he didn't fit in. There's a certain standard on Olympus and he, well, he just didn't meet it. It was incredibly unfair that I should be sentenced to life with him here now.

Hephaestus merely took of his jacket and laid it on the bed, as if I had said nothing. He didn't even look at me. He wasn't mad, wasn't upset, he was just nothing.

I was off my game, that much was obvious. I was not used to handling the type of man that Hephaestus is. Correction; I wasn't _handling_ Hephaestus at all. I wasn't getting the satisfaction that I normally get when working with men, the feeling of superiority. I put other men down because they deserved to be put down.

But Hephaestus, with his sad eyes, was different. And I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself.

I sat down in front of my mirror and began to un-do the various braids and twist that Athena, Artemis and Persephone had collaboratively decorated my hair with.

I knew that I was beautiful; I'd been told so many times; and I could see it myself. I was, in fact, the goddess of love, beauty, and sexual desire.

So why did my husband, of all people, seem to not even notice?

I was shaken out of my thoughts when I heard the door creak open. Hephaestus was on his way out the door.

"Are you leaving?" I inquired.

"I was going to sleep in the spare bedroom. Is that not what you would prefer?"

"Oh. No. I mean yes. I mean, I don't really _prefer _anything. What I mean to say is – "

He smiled, the first time I'd seen his face contorted in such a way. "I'll be back for my pillow." He said, just before he walked through the door.

I sighed, being left once again to my thoughts. The first time I've seen him smile. I'd made him smile.

I quickly changed into my night gown, a blushed pink silk that fell to just above my knees. He walked back in just as I let all my hair down, flowing smoothly around my shoulders.

I took notice as he observed this change in my appearance. He sighed, and his eyes grew sad again. He walked silently to the side of the bed and grabbed his pillow, and turned to leave again.

"The kitchen is down the hall, to the right. There are extra blankets in the closest. I'll be in the room next door, if you need anything."

I simply nodded, responding the exact same way he'd responded to me so many times. I appreciated the simplicity of it, not needing to explain anything or calculate my response; what I should say or how I should say it. I could just nod. And he didn't expect anything else.

*/*

In the large, bare bedroom, I was unable to sleep. Hephaestus, of all people, was on my mind. It bothered me that I had no effect on him, yet I'd made it clear I didn't want to have an effect on him.

But that's not really what I wanted. I wanted to have an effect on him. The effect I had on all men. I wanted him to look at me the way Ares did, with longing eyes, not sad ones.

And at the same time I wanted to deny him. That's the way it should be, shouldn't it?

He was opting to sleep in another bed, in another room. I should be happy. I am happy. I don't want him in the bed anyway.

Ah, who the hell am I kidding? I'm extremely unhappy. Because Heaphestus, god of fire, the man I was forced to marry, the man who I declared I would never love, was apathetic towards me. Because I, the most desired woman in all of Greece, was not desired by this one man. Because I was the one kept up at night thinking about him, when he should be the one up thinking about me.

_**Fin**_

_**a/n - I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are greatly appriciated, I love to hear what you all have to say! Once again if you have any suggestions for one shots you'd like to see with this couple, I'd be glad to oblige. I can't promise i'll do every one, but I'd love to hear your ideas. **_

_**Thanks again! REIVIEW! (:**_

_**Nikki Mouse**_


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